Sauk Valley Killer

by KJ Kalis

  Kat followed Van out of the house and got into the passenger side of his truck. She pushed back the memories from so many years ago, even though they kept careening towards her. She took a couple of deep breaths, apparently loud enough Van could hear her. “You okay?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

  “Yeah. This is just a hard story. It hits a little too close to home,” she said.

  “For sure.” He took his eyes off the road for a second and glanced at her. “Your wrist bothering you again?”

  “No, just the memories.”

  Overlook Park, where Van’s police source said Chelsea’s body had been left, was about ten miles from their house. Kat had been there a few times when Jack was younger, and they were looking for something to do. It had a beautiful view of the valley below, dotted with homes and tall evergreen trees, or at least what had been left after massive wildfires had scorched the valley a few years before. Kat and Van’s first house in Sauk Valley had been destroyed by those wildfires. They had rebuilt on the same lot after their house had succumbed to the flames. Some others had. Many had not.

  Kat remembered the day she and Jack had gone to go look down into the valley, their first trip to the park. It was a late spring day after a baseball game. They had stopped for fast food and decided to take a walk. Van had been working late that night, so it was just the two of them. Thinking those memories would now be overlaid with Chelsea’s death made Kat sad. She tried to convince herself that her life was like everyone else’s, but it seemed that the pendulum swung a little farther out towards the edges for her than other people. The good was incredibly good. Things like Jack, and marrying Van and her dogs, Tyrant, and now their new puppy Dillon. On the other side were very bad things. Many of them were just memories now, but they were hard to forget knowing that Jack had been kidnapped, his father had died, and they had all nearly burned to death in the wildfires that had swept through the area at the hands of a madman. She shook her head a little.

  “What are you thinking about?” Van said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Kat sighed. “Nothing. Everything. Just life. I can’t believe this is happening to Stephanie’s family.”

  Van nodded without looking at her, keeping his eyes on the road. “It does hit a little close to home, doesn’t it?”

  Kat nodded but decided to focus on the story. “Okay,” she sighed. “Tell me again what your police contact said?”

  “He said about the same thing that Cheryl told Stephanie. The circumstances are unusual. He didn’t say much more except he did give me their location. That’s a win, at least.”

  Most police departments weren’t too friendly to journalists, fearing their investigation would either be misrepresented or contaminated by outsiders. Kat and Van had worked hard to build relationships with both local and federal law enforcement throughout their careers. They saw themselves as investigators as much as the police officers did. Law enforcement officials that worked with them quickly learned that Kat and Van weren’t the kind to hold details close to the vest. Most times Kat and Van went to the police with the information they had. They worked more as informants than anything else. It made them unusual in their field. And, when the story was over, they didn’t usually report on the basic facts of the investigation. They chose to take one angle of the story and humanize it, giving their readers a glimpse into not only the motivation of the criminals but the dedication of the people who had worked to solve the crime.

  The investigation that had gotten them the most attention was when Kat worked to rescue Carlye Morgan, an eleven-year-old girl who was kidnapped and sex trafficked by a billionaire. At the end of the story, Kat laid out the facts to the readers of The Hot Sheet, but she focused more on recovery for young girls who had been sex trafficked, doing a profile piece on the people who were working with Carly. It had brought a lot of attention to the issue. That type of writing made both Kat and Van feel good, not to mention it was great for the paper.

  As Van turned the truck into the park, Kat thought about what was in front of them. Her stomach clenched into a small ball. “Van, do you feel like we are too close to this to help?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe. But Stephanie asked, so we’ve got to do what we can.”

  Overlook Park took up hundreds of acres right on the ridge over the Musk Valley. California was filled with mountains and valleys and flatter coastal areas. Kat remembered from her trip to the park that the land had been deeded over to the county from a family who had moved back east. The view was so beautiful that they wanted everyone to be able to enjoy it, not just homeowners after it had been developed. The paved road wound around stands of tall trees that had somehow survived the wildfires. That was a strange thing about wildfires Kat learned once she moved to California. They didn’t always take everything in front of them. Wildfires would twist and turn, scorching some areas down to the dirt while leaving other areas untouched. Overlook Park had been completely unscathed for many decades as if angels had stood on the boundaries of the land and pushed the fires away.

  Ahead of her, Kat could see a cluster of cars. There were a few police cars as well as some unmarked sedans. A van was parked off to the side. The road itself was completely blocked. Van pulled the truck up to the side, getting as far off the road as he could without damaging the grass, and cut the engine. As he unclipped his seatbelt, he said, “All right, let’s go and see what we can find out.”

  Kat gave him a weak smile and got out of the truck. Although the day had warmed up quite a bit, she could feel the edge of the cool fall air in the breeze that moved around her hair. She pushed a curl back behind her ear and walked to the front of the truck, following Van. Ahead of them, yellow police tape had been strung across the road. An officer stood by, watching them approach. “Van? Is that you?”

  “Mac. How are you?”

  Kat took a close look at the officer that was standing in front of them. He was taller than Van, but with a much stockier build. He had blonde hair and a square jaw. If she had to guess, she would guess he was former military.

  “Haven’t seen you in a long time. Where’ve you been?”

  Van pointed to Kat. “She’s been keeping me busy.”

  Mac extended his hand to Kat. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mac. Van your husband?” She nodded. “Van and I met at a Marine benefit a couple of years ago.”

  “You served?” she asked.

  “I did. Four trips to the sandbox. Happy I made it out with all of my limbs still attached.”

  Four trips to the Middle East was a lot. Even one could bring back a soldier in a different state of mind, not to mention what it could do to them physically. She was an example of that, and she wasn’t even in the military. The fact that Mac was working after four tours of duty was a testament to how strong he was, and probably a little luck.

  Van nodded past Mac and the cars that were parked. “We got a call from the aunt of the young girl you are working on. She talked to Cheryl Morris who said that Chelsea Atkinson’s body is back there. That true?”

  Mac glanced over his shoulder, “That’s about right. Don’t know if I should be saying that to you.”

  “Any chance you could walk us through and introduce us to the lead detective?”

  The breath caught in Kat’s throat. If Mac could introduce them to the detective that was working the case, it would be a big breakthrough. If he wouldn’t, it would be like a door slammed in their face. They would have to get information on Chelsea’s death another way.

  Mac looked at both of them as if he were sizing them up. “I can, but I’m not sure you want to meet him. He’s a pretty sour old fella between you and me.”

  Van shook his head. “I don’t care how sour he is if he’s a good detective. You’ll introduce us?”

  “Yeah. I’ll walk you over there, but we might all be walking right back as soon as we meet him.”

  Kat followed Van as he ducked under the yellow tape that had cordoned off the area and blocked the
road. The loss of any life was sad, but Kat knew that for Sauk Valley any death with abnormal circumstances would be the talk of the town. It was a small community. That was one of the reasons that Kat and Van had chosen to live there. It was about as close in feel to Aldham, the city they used to live in before they moved to California, as they could find when they needed to move for Van’s job. That Chelsea and her boyfriend had been killed at the same time would make the story even that much more sensational and sadder.

  Kat couldn’t see much as they wove their way between the sedans and police cruisers that were piled up on the road. As soon as they got past the cars, the green lawn of Overlook Park stretched out ahead of them. Overhead, she could hear a few birds chirping and the rustle of a slight breeze in the leaves that were starting to get dry around the edges with the beginning of fall. The park was well maintained, with clusters of trees manicured grass, and a dotting of picnic tables here and there. Kat imagined that on a regular day couples and families might bring food to the park to enjoy the views and being outside.

  But that wasn’t today. Today the chirping of the birds and the rustling of the leaves that normally would’ve been so soothing were completely overshadowed by the low hum of police officers talking and their radios beeping with each transmission back to headquarters.

  Directly ahead of them, Kat saw a large tree with a cluster of people working around it. Looking up, she realized it was a black walnut tree. She and Jack had done a report when he was in middle school on the different types of trees in California. The branches of the tree rose into the air, the feathered leaves on the branches arching back down toward the earth. In front of the tree were four people that seemed to be circled around something. Kat guessed it was Chelsea’s body. There was a younger woman with a long blonde ponytail wearing a jacket that said coroner's office on the back. Next to her stood a square stump of a man with a shock of gray hair. He had on gloves but seemed to be taking notes in a notebook. There was an officer to his right and then another man, middle-aged, wearing another coroner’s office jacket.

  “Detective?” Mac called. The square stump of a man turned around, his face weathered and dry. The suit he wore looked like it had been pressed and then thrown in a pile on the ground. He was certainly not as concerned about his appearance as a detective she had met in Savannah, Carson Martino, who always looked perfectly dressed. Van glanced at her. She offered him a weak smile. From where they were standing, they couldn’t see the body. The detective’s frame blocked their view.

  “What is it, officer?” It was hard to miss the impatience in the detective’s voice.

  “This is Van and Kat. They are friends with Chelsea’s aunt. I served with Van. They wondered if they could have a word with you?”

  Saying that Mac and Van had served together was a bit of a stretch, but Kat appreciated the effort. She wondered how difficult the detective was if Mac had to introduce them that way.

  “What can I do for you? As you can see, I’m a little busy.”

  Van took a step closer to the detective. “I can see that. I appreciate you taking a moment. My wife and I,” he gestured to Kat. “We are friends of Chelsea’s aunt. She asked us to come down here and see what information we could get for the family. She’s with Chelsea’s mom right now.

  “So, you aren’t related? Is the aunt the one that works for a paper?”

  Kat’s stomach clenched into a little ball. This detective wasn’t going to give them much help, but she didn’t say anything.

  Van didn’t directly answer the detective's question. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”

  “Wesley Dawson. Detective. I think the aunt pals around with one of our officers.” The man squinted at Van.

  “To answer your question, that’s correct. In addition to being friends with Stephanie Vincent, Chelsea’s aunt. I’m also her boss. And yes, we do work for the paper. We are both journalists. That’s not why we are here though.”

  While the men were talking, Kat tried to get a look at the body. As she glanced past Wesley, the woman with the long blonde ponytail stood up. Chelsea’s body was still laying on the ground. It had been partially covered with a yellow tarp; her upper body exposed. She was on her back, her shoulders and head resting on the tree trunk, as though she could have been relaxing and looking up at the leaves on the branches above. Her eyes were closed, but her skin was a bluish-gray, the color of death. Her hair was pulled back behind her shoulders in a way that looked intentional. Kat listened as the men talked in the background, but it struck her that the way the body was placed looked gentle and intentional. She had been at other scenes where bodies had just been left, abandoned. Chelsea’s body didn’t look that way.

  The man who was wearing the coroner’s office jacket lifted the side of the sheet, exposing more of her arms and her torso. She was dressed in a t-shirt. The man leaned over, cocked his head to the right, and looked closely at her arm, quickly covering it again with the sheet. The officer stood up, shaking his head. Kat’s gut told her something was going on, but she wasn’t sure what it was. She turned back to the conversation going on between the men.

  Detective Dawson closed the notebook he was holding. “Listen, I understand that you have connections to the body over there.”

  “Chelsea,” Van said.

  “Yes, Chelsea. The reality is I can’t let you near the scene or the body. You’re going to have to go through proper channels just like everyone else.”

  “Can you give me anything? Anything I can tell the family?”

  Kat could tell by the look on Wesley’s face that he wasn’t going to help. It was like he had been in this conversation many times over his career, which had been a long one, and he had lost all sympathy for the people who had lost someone.

  “I wish I could, but again this is an ongoing investigation. I can’t risk any contamination to the scene.” The detective started to walk away, but Kat called after him.

  “How did she die? That’s all the family wants to know right now.”

  The detective shook his head, “You people don’t give up, do you? As I said before, this is an ongoing investigation. I can’t tell you anything.” He looked at Mac, “Get these people out of here and don’t let anyone else in.”

  Kat, Van, and Mac watched Dawson walk away. “Come on, guys. I’m sorry. He’s kind of a jerk,” Mac said. They followed Mac back to the barricade. No one said anything.

  As Kat passed back under the yellow barricade tape, she stopped for a second looking back at the scene. “Mac, what’s his story?”

  Mac shook his head. “Unknown. He’s been like that since I got here five years ago. Always crabby, always difficult. Reminds me of a staff sergeant I had at one time…”

  Van chuckled. “I think we all had that staff sergeant.” He kicked a pebble that was sitting on the road. “Seriously though, can you tell me anything about him? Any idea why he wouldn’t want to give us anything at all?”

  Mac glanced back at the scene and then looked at Kat and Van, leaning in. “All I can tell you is that finding bodies of a boyfriend and a girlfriend so close together has the department humming. They called everyone back in temporarily. Overkill, if you ask me.”

  “So, what you are saying is that this is more than a garden-variety murder,” Kat said.

  “I shouldn’t say anything, but if you bought me a beer off duty I’d say yes.” Mac rested his hand on his gun belt and said, “Listen, we don’t get this kind of action ever. The last time I saw something this serious I was overseas. I think the fact that it never happens here is one thing that’s got everybody running.” He pointed to one of the cruisers parked near the scene. “The first officer that got here, he hadn’t seen a dead body since the Academy. He was puking his guts out in the shrubs by the time the second car got here.”

  “Is there anyone you can think of that would give us information?” Van said.

  From behind them, someone called Mac’s name. “Listen, I gotta go. I’m not sur
e who can get you information. Call me if you get stuck, but as of right now I got nothing.”

  There wasn’t anything more they could accomplish at the murder scene. Detective Dawson was blocking all information from getting out. Kat didn’t say anything until they got back in the truck. As soon as Van turned the key, she looked at him and said, “I’m not sure how helpful that was.”

  Van reached his arm over the seat so he could look out the back of the truck. “Yeah, that was strange. Usually, friends of the family get at least a little better treatment than that.”

  Neither of them said anything at all until they were back on the highway. Kat was lost in thought. There was something that didn’t seem quite right about the scene, but she couldn’t place it. Something didn’t look right when she glanced at Chelsea’s body. She shook her head. Maybe she was seeing things. She cracked the window on her side of the car, smelling the fresh air. “Anything seem strange about Chelsea’s body to you?”

  “Like what? We didn’t get a particularly good look.”

  “I don’t know. While you were sparring with Dawson, the guy in the coroner's jacket pulled back the sheet for a second. Chelsea had on a t-shirt.”

  “And that was strange?”

  To someone else, Van’s comment might have sounded sarcastic. Kat knew better than that. He was just direct. “It wasn’t the t-shirt, it was that he was staring at her left arm like there was something wrong with it.”

  Van frowned, the corners of his lips pulling his cheeks back. “The whole thing sounds strange. Did you hear the comment that Mac made that they called the whole department back in?”

  Kat nodded. “I did. I mean, I realize it’s a small department and everything, but calling everyone back in? I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  On their way back to the house, Van called Stephanie and gave her a brief update. “They didn’t tell us anything, Steph. We are going to follow up, though. Call me if they reach out to you. The detective running the show is a guy named Dawson. He’s nothing but difficult, so brace yourself.”